


Until We're Gray and Old

by Merrily_Merrily



Series: Cast Me Gently [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Bipolar II Disorder, Children, Demisexual Yuri Plisetsky, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Family, Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Language, Past Character Death, Romance, Unplanned Pregnancy, Wedding Planning, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 01:04:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10060742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merrily_Merrily/pseuds/Merrily_Merrily
Summary: Yuri's a little shit, but JJ loves him anyway. JJ's a big, dopey sap, but Yuri loves him anyway. They shouldn't work, but they do, and honestly, everyone's a little surprised it's taken seven years for the wedding bells to come into play.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to be vague about some of the stuff that'll happen in Cast Me Gently, but there are certain things I just can't gloss over, so beware of spoilers. If you've seen the tags on the other fic, you probably won't be surprised by those things anyway.
> 
>  **EDIT (07/22/2017):** I've made minor edits to the first chapter and I've changed the rating from T to M because there's going to be sex at some point. It won't be very descriptive, though, so do go expecting any hardcore smut.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's completely by accident that Yuri finds out JJ plans to propose to him, but Yuri's quest for information after the fact isn't accidental at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was working on finishing chapter two when I suddenly started looking up diamonds and comparing prices again, and I decided the original price I had for the ring was way too low for JJ, so I edited this a bit to correct that and include a little more information about the ring.

“Maybe it’s a sign of weakness when I don’t know what to say.  
Maybe I just wouldn’t know what to do with my strength anyway.  
Have we become a habit? Do we distort the facts?  
Now there’s no looking forward; now there’s no turning back.”

\- [“We Belong” by Pat Benatar](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxZInIyOBXk)

* * *

It’s completely by accident that Yuri finds out JJ plans to propose to him.

He isn’t snooping into JJ’s business on purpose, not because he knows snooping is wrong, but because he doesn’t have any reason to. Yuri doesn’t suspect a thing. JJ hasn’t been acting any stranger than usual, and he hasn’t said anything that might make Yuri wonder if he has wedding bells on the brain. Their lives have settled into something most people who aren’t professional athletes might actually consider somewhat “normal.” Over the last few months, they’ve established such a comfortable routine together, Yuri’s pretty sure he would have noticed even the most subtle of changes in the dynamics of their relationship.

It’s late in the morning and he’s doing something completely mundane — cleaning out the overfull refrigerator. He tosses a few boxes of week-old Chinese take-out into the trash, following it with some other leftovers that look like they might be starting to go bad. That’s when he notices they’re running low on milk, coffee creamer, and strawberries.

This leads him to JJ’s iPad to update the grocery list. Nowadays, it isn’t “JJ’s iPad” so much as it is “ _their_ iPad.” It’s frequently in the kitchen because they use it so much for lists and recipes. Yuri’s even checked JJ’s emails on it before, sometime last summer when JJ asked him to while JJ was busy fulfilling one domestic obligation or another. Fixing the sink, probably. Yuri can’t remember exactly what the reason was, but that situation seems familiar. The point is, the iPad recognizes both of their fingerprints now. Yuri has every reason to be using it.

So he isn’t doing something wrong when he unlocks it to get to the grocery list, and it’s not entirely his fault if he ends up seeing some of JJ’s newly received emails. That just happens to be what’s already on the screen. Yuri has every intention of closing the app and moving straight to the grocery list when his eyes unintentionally settle on an email from someone who turns out to be a Toronto based jeweler, one he would have assumed was spam if he didn’t notice that it’s a response to an email _JJ_ sent.

Even then, Yuri’s first thought has nothing to do with marriage. If JJ’s talking to a jeweler, he must be working on a gift for someone. The most likely recipient, Yuri thinks, would be Isabella, whose birthday is coming up in a little over a month. JJ still buys her jewelry for special occasions. A nice pair of earrings for Christmas. A pretty necklace for Mother’s Day. In Yuri’s opinion, turning twenty-seven doesn’t seem like a terribly big milestone to be celebrating with such an expensive gift, but it wouldn’t be unlikely.

It isn’t until Yuri opens it on a whim, quickly scans the email, and sees that JJ’s bought a _ring_ that he begins to consider that it might not be about Isabella after all. JJ hasn’t bought Isabella a ring since…

“ _Fuck_ …”

The part of Yuri that struggles for serenity and rationality wants to believe that he’s overreacting and making assumptions, but as he compulsively scrolls through the series of emails, he learns five very essential things about this purchase that makes him certain he’s come to the right conclusion.

One, JJ and this jeweler have been communicating via email since the beginning of May, only a month after Yuri officially moved to Toronto. It’s the beginning of August now, which puts the timeframe at around twelve weeks. If this ring was meant for someone else, JJ wouldn’t have kept quiet about it for three months.

Two, JJ and this jeweler have met in person on several occasions, always on days when Yuri doesn’t join JJ at the rink for practice. Which, continuing off of the last point, means that JJ definitely did _not_ intend for him to know about this, which seems to Yuri to imply that this is _a very big deal_ , because JJ hasn't kept anything secret from him since they began dating.

Three, there are diamonds involved. Yes, _plural_. Definitely more than one. Yuri doesn’t have anything against diamonds. He figures people are right when they say they’re overpriced since they’re so common, but they’re also flashy, and despite what a large part of Yuri’s wardrobe still being made up of ripped jeans, sweatpants, and hoodies might imply, Yuri is sort of fond of flashy things. He’s sure it’s a consequence of years spent decked out in bedazzled costumes. The fact that there are diamonds on the ring isn’t the real issue anyway. What stands out about this part is that, according to the correspondences, JJ not only took it upon himself to pick every last one of the diamonds out, he also had a hand in designing the ring itself, which makes it undeniably sentimental as well as one-of-a-kind.

Four, the piece is probably what Yuri would consider to be unreasonably expensive. He’s gotten a peek into JJ’s bank accounts on various occasions, so he’s aware that the JJ Style brand and other endorsement deals bring in _a lot_ of money. Some of it gets invested, some of it gets donated, and some of it goes into feeding JJ’s habit of spending money on other people. But a ring is _tiny_. That anything so small should cost thousands of dollars seems absolutely insane to someone who spent years hoarding his income to support himself and his grandfather.

And five, the ring appears to be complete.

“ _Fuck_ …”

Yuri has no idea what he’s supposed to do with this information, or if he’s supposed to do anything at all. Even though he’s pretty sure this discovery can’t be categorized as his fault, he still feels as if he’s done something very wrong. He makes sure to mark the email as unread again, shuts the iPad off, and returns it to its previous position next to the coffeemaker.

Then he scrambles to find his phone and calls Otabek without bothering to double check what time it currently is in Almaty.

“Hello?”

Otabek sounds tired but alert, so Yuri doesn’t have to add waking him up in the middle of the night to his list of poorly thought out decisions of the day.

“Did JJ tell you he’s going to propose to me?” Yuri rattles the question off so quickly the words sound mostly incoherent.

“Wait, what?”

“JJ,” Yuri tries again, forcing himself to pause and break the sentence up into simpler pieces. “Proposing to me. Did he tell you?”

“JJ proposed to you?”

“ _No_! No, not… not _yet_.”

“But he’s going to?”

“There’s an email,” Yuri says, staring wide-eyed at the iPad that sits innocently on the counter, “about a ring.”

“A ring...”

“I didn’t mean to look at it. It was there and I thought it was something else.”

“Okay?”

“ _Okay_?” Yuri counters. “Fuck, I’m freaking out over here and all you have to say is _okay_?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Did JJ tell you he’s going to propose?” Yuri demands a third time.

“No,” Otabek says. It’s firm and even, so Yuri knows he’s not lying. “What makes you think that’s what this is?”

“Because he hasn’t told me about it,” Yuri says, and he knows he sounds frantic, but the shock of it makes it nearly impossible for him to put a damper on the wave of anxiety currently coursing through him. “Because he’s kept it a secret and he wouldn’t do that if it didn’t _mean_ something. Because it’s a fucking _ring_ , and the last time JJ bought anyone a fucking ring was when he proposed to Izzy.”

“That was seven years ago, Yura.”

“Yes, thank you, I know how long it’s been. That just proves my fucking point, doesn’t it?”

“So you don’t want him to propose?”

“ _What_?” Yuri sort of stands there and gapes in silence for a few moments, while his brain struggles to keep up with his rapidly shifting thoughts. “I didn’t… I never said that.”

“Then you want him to.”

“I never said that either.”

“You can tell him no.”

“Why the fuck would I tell him _no_?”

The question’s out of his mouth before he can hold it back, before he can even think about what he wants to say in response, and Yuri wonders if it’s better that way, if thinking about it too much might not always be the best idea. When he freaks out and lets his nerves control him, he has a habit of focusing on insignificant details and exaggerating every single negative thought that happens into his brain. His thoughts go around and around in circles until he’s at risk of losing sight of what he actually wants out of a situation. He’s wasted time like that before, months spent in agonizing uncertainty that seem so unnecessary now that he can look back with the knowledge that his first instinct was the right answer all along.

Yuri knows it’s the suddenness of this discovery that unnerves him more than the idea of JJ proposing. A part of him feels like he should have realized that this would be an eventuality. For all that JJ tries to play it cool, he’s a hopeless romantic at heart. Flowers and gifts and tender songs, those are things Yuri learned to expect from JJ long before they became a couple — before they were even really friends. An expensive, one-of-a-kind ring designed in secret is exactly the sort of over-the-top thing JJ would do. It’s actually surprisingly low-key compared to what Yuri knows JJ’s capable of.

The initial uncertainty stems from the fact that they’ve never discussed marriage as a part of their future. It’s obviously something JJ idealizes, otherwise he never would have proposed to Isabella on impulse when he was only nineteen, but it’s not a thought Yuri’s ever really considered as something he might like to undertake himself. It didn’t cross his mind when he and JJ got together, or during any of his summers spent in Canada, not even when JJ bought the house and Yuri began to call it “home” with the same level of contentment he calls Lilia’s place “home.” Yuri’s reached his fourth month of retirement without a single regret for cutting his career short, because he’s content right where he is now, but this moment, the aftermath of his instinctive reaction to Otabek’s assumption that he might actually say “no,” marks the first time Yuri’s let himself fully acknowledge that he wants to spend the rest of his life here with JJ.

And that’s just as staggering a realization as JJ’s intentions are, because Yuri thinks it’s something he should have recognized about himself years ago. He feels so _stupid_ that it takes _this_ for him to accept something that’s been building between them all along.

All Yuri has to do is look around the house to see the evidence. It’s in the furniture they picked out together. It’s in the dinnerware and the glassware they bickered over. It’s in every single one of the appliances JJ asked for Yuri’s opinion on. It’s in the mirrors and the ballet barre JJ installed in the front room. It’s in the clawfoot tub up in the masterbath, the one JJ bought because of a single comment Yuri made years before about his bathroom at Lilia’s. It’s in the childish drawings stuck to the refrigerator, each of which includes a skinny figure with two green dots for eyes and a blob of yellow for hair. It’s in the photographs that line the walls in almost every room — trips to Disney with their friends, a week-long getaway to Saint Lucia, and collages of pictures taken all over the world.

It’s all so very _obvious_ when he stops to think about it, and Yuri hates that it took him so long to notice.

Otabek has been quiet for the last several moments, letting Yuri process this very new and very alarming realization. Even in the lull, even over the distance of ten-thousand miles, Yuri can sense Otabek’s amusement.

“Alright, so you know what your answer’s going to be,” Otabek says. Yuri can practically hear the small, teasing smile in his voice.

“Fuck, you’ve all turned me into a sappy idiot,” Yuri grumbles.

“Pretty sure I had nothing to do with that,” Otabek argues.

“You were my first friend,” Yuri counters.

“Mila was your first friend.”

“Mila doesn’t count. She’s practically family.”

Otabek chuckles quietly. “She’d be ecstatic if she knew that’s what you really think of her.”

“Don’t you dare tell her I said that!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how you operate. I still don’t see how you going soft is my fault.”

“Because I wouldn’t have had any reason to care about anyone otherwise,” Yuri tells him.

“That’s bullshit,” Otabek says. “You were already doing your weird, angry flirting with JJ back in Barcelona.”

“Fuck you, I was not flirting with him then. I hated him.”

“And it was in full swing by the time you got to Boston.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You were with him all week,” Otabek says.

“So?”

“And you two got pretty into that dance at the afterparty.”

“Of course we got into it,” Yuri says. “We were defending our pairs dance-off title.”

“So then what was with the oddly appropriate song?”

“It was just something random JJ chose.”

Denying that it means anything turns out to be a mistake, because Otabek got into the habit of teasing him before they even left Barcelona. In Otabek’s defense, Yuri opened the doors for it with the drunken sleepover. Nowadays, Yuri’s pestered by Otabek almost as much as he is by JJ and Mila. He might feel betrayed by it if he didn’t know it meant they all cared about him.

Unlike JJ and Mila, Otabek doesn’t put a sing-song lilt into his voice, but he does this low sort of chant that sounds enough like singing to count.

“I… don’t tell anyone about the way you hold my hand, I… don’t tell anyone about the things that we have planned, I-”

“Fuck, you are not doing this to me right now,” Yuri complains.

“-won’t tell anybody… won’t tell anybody… they wanna push me down, they wanna see you fall down-”

“Do you want me to post that video of you singing Uptown Girl?”

Otabek immediately stops singing. “You wouldn’t dare. I still have the Super Trouper video.”

“Ugh. Just stop butchering our song.”

“So it _is_ your song?”

“One of several,” Yuri grumbles, flushing red. “Fuck, don’t judge me. I already know it’s fucking lame.”

“Guess we know what your first dance is going to be.”

“You know what? Fuck you, asshole. If it is our first dance, it’s going to be fucking awesome,” Yuri says. Then he falls silent for a moment when he realizes the conversation has come back around to rings and weddings. Yuri gapes into thin air again and says, “Fuck, Beka, he’s going to ask me to marry him and I’m going to say yes.”

“And this comes as a surprise to you?”

“Is this your way of saying you’re not surprised at all?”

“Honestly? What surprises me is that you didn’t retire and run off to elope with him sooner.”

“I’m only twenty-two,” Yuri argues.

“So?”

“You think I retired for JJ?”

“No, I know you retired for yourself,” Otabek says, as calm and patient as he’s always been with Yuri, “but I don’t think you would have admitted to how much of a toll competing was taking on you if JJ wasn’t a part of the equation.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you got a taste of a different life with him. It doesn’t matter how much pressure you were under or how tired you were, you wouldn’t have considered retiring if you didn’t have something better waiting for you.”

“After all the shit you gave me about being emotionally ready for it, you really think this is better?” Yuri asks.

“For you, yes,” Otabek says. “I’ve been watching you since we were kids. You think I can’t tell when you’re actually happy?”

Yuri knows Otabek is right.

He’s happy. He’s so ridiculously happy he could puke over how grossly sappy he thinks he’s becoming, taking to a life of domesticity as if he didn’t previously scoff at the very thought of it. He’s pretty sure he’s never been so happy in his entire fucking life, and he thinks that should be sad, because he’s twenty-two and he’s had so many other successes, but he’s so fucking content he doesn’t even care. The Grand Prixs and the World Championships and the Olympic medals were only half as satisfying as waking up every morning to JJ’s big, dopey grin, and if that isn’t sign enough that Yuri has it bad for the handsome idiot, he doesn’t know what would be more convincing.

“Fucking hell, I’ve turned into Viktor,” Yuri says.

Otabek chuckles quietly again. “I’m sure there are worse things.”

“I’m sure there aren’t.”

“Are you done freaking out now?”

Yuri considers the question and finds that the anxiety has lulled to a more reasonable level. “For now, I guess.”

“Do you need me to stay on the line?”

Yuri glances at the clock on the stove and sees that it’s nearly noon. He winces when he does some quick mental math and realizes it’s close to eleven at night in Almaty.

“No, it’s okay,” he says. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Otabek says. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will.”

“Good night, Yura.”

A thought suddenly strikes Yuri, and he nearly shouts, “Wait!”

Otabek must have been expecting it, because his response is too immediate for him to have pulled the phone away already. “What?”

“Don’t tell JJ I know he’s going to propose.”

“Why would I do that?” Otabek says.

“Just making sure. And don’t tell Mila, either. She won’t be able to keep her mouth shut.”

“Fine, just make sure she’s the first person you tell when JJ gets around to popping the question.”

“Okay, okay,” Yuri says.

“Good night, Yura,” Otabek tries again.

“‘Night, Beka. Miss you, love you, can’t wait to see you, sweet dreams and all that shit.”

“You’re a fucking brat.”

“Yeah, but you love me too, so you can suck it.”

Otabek makes a noise that sounds like a hastily aborted laugh. His voice is warm even though he tries to sound stern when he grumbles out another, “Good night.”

The call ends with Yuri standing in the middle of the kitchen, stealing another glance at the dark screen of the iPad. He’s tempted to turn it on again and read through the emails more closely now that the nervousness has ebbed somewhat, but JJ should be taking a break for lunch soon, which means he’ll probably be checking his emails, and Yuri doesn’t want to risk being caught in the middle of his perusal with the email marked as read before he has the chance to set it back to unread.

Instead, Yuri forces himself to go back to the refrigerator to finish cleaning it out. For about two minutes, he just stands there with the doors open, letting the cold air waft out while he absentmindedly stares at the last of the strawberries.

“ _Fuck_ …”

* * *

A long time ago, Yuri came to terms with the fact that he’s probably a terrible person. For most of his life, his shitty attitude has been one of the first things people comment on, even before his pretty face. He’s been called a selfish asshole and a raving bitch, and he’s worn both labels like a badge of honor. He’s not heartless, but he’s selective about the people and the things he cares about, and he isn’t always concerned with right or wrong.

So he’s actually sort of proud of himself for lasting a good two hours before going back to JJ’s iPad ( _their_ iPad, he reminds himself) to snoop some more — completely on purpose this time.

He doesn’t have to worry about JJ noticing anymore, because JJ’s read the email and sent a response. Yuri scrolls down to the very first message and reads each one in depth to make sure he didn’t miss anything the first time. He’s a little frustrated when he doesn’t learn anything new. He was hoping there might be a few images included somewhere, either of the initial designs or of the finished product, but it seems those parts of the correspondence were handled in person.

Hitting a dead end there, Yuri’s next course of action is to Google the jeweler. The only thing he learns by doing this is that the jeweler is located in a part of town Yuri knows to be brimming with designer boutiques and high-end shops. Looking through some of the engagement rings on the website, he finds at least half of them say “request price” instead of listing a dollar amount, which he assumes means they’re costly to the point of being shameful. The most expensive ring he finds with a price attached is well over forty-thousand Canadian dollars — a sight that makes Yuri feel vaguely ill.

Yuri clears the browsing history and closes out of everything after that, then he puts the iPad back where it was that morning, ready to pretend as if he never even touched it. Lacking any better ideas, he makes his way over to the home office and spends a little time standing just beyond the threshold fighting against his curiosity, because this quest of his is an invasion of JJ’s privacy, and he knows he should have given up on it as soon as he realized what was going on. Guiltily, he sneaks in and starts rummaging through the desk drawers. He’s certain that if there are copies of the ring design in the house, they’d be in here. Yuri never has much of a reason to come into the home office since JJ’s the one who handles most of the bills, making it the only real place JJ has to hide anything.

The dead ends keep piling up until Yuri starts looking through the filing cabinet. There aren’t any designs there, but all of JJ’s bank account statements, credit card statements, and important receipts are neatly organized in labeled folders. Yuri’s rifling through the last three months worth of credit card statements when he notices an unlabeled folder tucked into the very back of the drawer.

He hesitates and gives himself the opportunity to be a principled human being, but Yuri is no such thing. He dives into the folder and pulls out a fews sheets of paper.

It turns out to be an invoice from the jeweler.

The first thing Yuri looks at is a document for one of the diamonds. It looks very formal, printed with some sort of seal, so he assumes it’s an official appraisal. The document features a diagram of measurements and abbreviations for things Yuri doesn’t understand. "Origin: Russia" and “Shape: Round” are the only obvious details. “Carat Weight: 2.71” isn’t an unfamiliar descriptor, Yuri just has nothing to compare it against to get an idea for the size. He knows absolutely nothing about what "Cut: Ideal", “Color Grade: D” or “Clarity Grade: FL” means, but scanning through the full invoice from the jeweler puts the price of the diamond itself at over $200,00.00.

“ _Fuck_...”

There are smaller diamonds worth significantly less, and platinum that isn’t terribly pricey compared to the larger diamond, but somehow, either from the custom make of it all or the cost of fancy ass designer labor, the total price is over $300,000.00.

“ _Fuuuuuuuuuck_ …”

There’s a moderately sized, prideful part of Yuri whose first thought is “Hell yes, I _am_ worth that much money,” but it’s temporarily overshadowed by the more frugal part of him that spent a pretty significant portion of his life supporting himself and his grandfather by the only means he knew how. He’s no stranger to impulse buys and he’s willing to spend as much as he has to on the things he needs to live a comfortable life, but Yuri is not the type of person to regularly splurge on designer clothes or jewelry, nice cars or lavish vacations, or decadent parties. Viktor and Chris do that sort of thing.

 _JJ_ does that sort of thing.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ , JJ, what the _fuck_ are you thinking?”

He knows exactly what JJ’s thinking, because JJ is nothing if not honest about the way he feels. _“I love you. I adore you. I worship the ground you walk on. You’re my world, my universe, my everything.”_ — those sort of saccharine remarks that would seem like nonsense coming from anyone else. It used to be overwhelming, back when Yuri was still getting used to the idea that JJ had become important to him. These days, he lets himself revel in it. He’s a greedy little shit, starved for attention after years of loss and solitude, and JJ is his biggest enabler, showering Yuri with so much affection Yuri’s never had to waste time doubting JJ’s commitment to him.

It was that sincerity, that unquestionable devotion, that endeared JJ to Yuri in the first place — in spite of the effort Yuri made to remain furious and irritated by JJ’s very existence. How could he resist? How could he ignore JJ’s passion for him, when to be acknowledged, to be respected and admired for who is, has been one of the few things Yuri’s wanted so fiercely since he was old enough to realize that when people marveled over them, most of them were busy comparing him to someone he didn’t even want to be?

Often, Yuri wonders if that just goes to show how selfish he really is, that he melted under the attention when he should have been won over by JJ’s compassion and generosity instead. The thought begins to eat at him now as he stands there staring at the invoice, and he has to put it back, has to hide it away again, because the pride is starting to crumble, replaced instead by a grating voice in his head telling him it’s too much, that he’s not worth it, that JJ deserves better. He doesn’t know what he did to earn anything from JJ, when JJ came to him in the protracted aftermath of one of the most loving and supportive relationships JJ’s ever known, but Yuri knows for a fact that JJ has always given him more than Yuri feels he can offer in return.

And that kills him, because JJ really does deserve the world.

Yuri makes sure to put the filing cabinet back in order before tearing out of the room.

The feeling of unease is back, stronger than it was before, only it’s more crushing this time because it’s combined with a heavy dose of self-loathing. He wants to call Otabek again, wants to rant and ramble and fret, but it’s after midnight in Almaty now and he doesn’t want to be the jackass who interrupts Otabek’s sleep for something like this, even if he _knows_ Otabek will sit on the phone with him for as long as he needs. Lilia would be his very next choice, but it’s late in St. Petersburg, too, and for the first time since he put Russia behind him, Yuri feels the distance acutely.

The only available alternative makes him feel conflicted. Yuri’s thumb hovers over the “Katsudon” contact on his phone for several agonizing moments. He inevitably decides not to make the call, not because he doesn’t think talking to Yuuri will help, but because he doesn’t want to risk Viktor overhearing anything and running his mouth.

Yuri prowls around the house looking for any possible distraction instead. He washes the dishes in the sink by hand even though it’s the chore he hates the most. He sweeps the floor in every room even if there’s barely any dirt to begin with. He drags the vacuum out and takes his time going over the rugs even though he and JJ did all the heavy cleaning two days ago, because the vacuum is loud and the noise helps him focus on something other than the guilt and the uncertainty.

There’s nothing left to clean after that, not unless he wants to scrub at the bathrooms, which tempts him but wouldn’t be satisfying. So he changes out of the pajamas he’s been wearing all day, throws his hair up into a messy bun, then withdraws to the room at the front of the house with the mirrors and the ballet barre. He turns his music up so loud it hurts his ears — so loud he can feel it in his head, in his chest, in his bones — and he dances the way he did when he was fifteen and angry at everything, when he couldn’t make the screaming in his head shut up.

He stretches at the barre. He runs through some old choreography. He works on something new, but it doesn’t draw out any of the emotions surging through him, so he hates it and scraps it before he even gives himself a chance to try again. He throws himself into one fouetté after another, around and around, over and over, until he’s sweating and exhausted and he can no longer keep up.

Then he’s on his knees on the floor with his head in his hands. He presses his nails through his hair, into his scalp, and he breathes hard and ragged until he feels the subtle vibrations in the floor that mean the garage door has opened.

Hastily, Yuri climbs onto his feet and turns the music off. He knows he should go back to the barre and slow down, pretend as if he’s not in the middle of an internal crisis, but he goes into the kitchen and meets JJ as JJ comes in from the garage. Yuri lets JJ set the restless intensity in his wild eyes, in his messy hair and his blotchy face and his tense posture, because this is what he is, this is what he’s always been, this is what he’ll probably always be, and if JJ can handle that then Yuri doesn’t see why he should bother holding any of it back, why he should feign calm stability when nothing about him has ever really been calm or stable.

JJ stares at him in the middle of hanging his keys on the hook by the door. He isn’t carrying anything with him, and his pockets look empty, so if he picked up the ring on the way home, he must have stashed it somewhere else.

“Hi,” Yuri says, and it sounds too aggressive, but he’s still a bit breathless and his throat feels tight, and this is the best he can do.

“Hey,” JJ says. He looks confused and worried. Slowly, he moves away from the door and steps further into the kitchen.

Part of Yuri wants to come clean and admit to what he did, tell JJ he saw the email and snuck around looking for information, wants to apologize for being a shitty person, because even if he knows he’ll probably never change, it still eats at him sometimes, especially in moments like this, when he can see the intent to offer comfort in JJ’s eyes, and Yuri knows he doesn’t deserve it.

What he says instead is, “I’m happy.”

JJ takes a hesitant step closer and looks at Yuri like he thinks Yuri might bolt if he makes a wrong move.

“You’re happy?” JJ says, slow and a little disbelieving, and Yuri can’t blame him because he knows he looks more crazed than happy right now.

“Yes,” Yuri answers anyway.

“And what are you happy about?”

“You. Everything. Being here. With you. I’m happy.”

JJ takes another cautious step toward him. “What’s this about?”

It occurs to Yuri then that his odd behavior could be proof enough that he knows about the ring, and even though he was seconds away from confessing anyway, Yuri suddenly hates the idea of taking that moment away from JJ, who must have already put so much time and effort into making it special for both of them. There are a lot of things Yuri’s not sure he can give to JJ, because he’s a stupid, broken, miserable person who doesn’t know how to love with the ease and the comfort that JJ loves, but he does love with the same depth, and if he can give JJ anything, it’s the chance to make their moment more consequential than a half-frenzied confrontation in the kitchen.

“I was just... I talked to Beka,” Yuri tells him; slowly, because it’s hard to think and he doesn’t want to say something wrong. “He said he knows I’m happy now. And I am. But I wasn’t. For a long time. I didn’t know how to be. I still don’t know sometimes, but… I just… I realized I never told you…”

He hates how awkward and uncertain his voice sounds, how he can’t seem to string a full sentence together. He wants to force it all into the open, spit his feelings out until they’re laid bare between them, but he can’t seem to find the right words. He’s always been harsh, never eloquent. He doesn’t know how to be tender. He doesn’t know how to speak with warmth, or whisper the sort of sweet nothings JJ can make into music.

“I don’t say it enough, but… you make me happy,” Yuri says. It’s rough and his voice breaks at the end, but he thinks that might be a good thing, because it means there are real emotions behind what he’s saying.

Slowly, JJ closes the space between them. He takes Yuri’s hands and unravels Yuri’s fingers from his palms. He presses his thumbs into Yuri’s skin in soothing circles.

“You don’t have to say it,” JJ tells him. It’s quiet and calm and certain. “I know you’re happy.”

“But I’m selfish,” Yuri says then.

“You have a passionate soul,” JJ counters.

“I’m needy as fuck,” Yuri argues.

“You like to know where you stand with people,” JJ says.

“I’m hateful,” Yuri retaliates.

“You don’t want to be hurt again,” JJ responds.

“I’m a mean son of a bitch,” Yuri says.

JJ laughs lightly. He leans down to nudge their noses together. “Baby, you’re not half as mean as you like to think you are,” he replies.

Yuri hates that he can still feel so unstable even when he’s happy, like everything’s moments away from falling apart even though nothing is. He’s never felt as fulfilled as he does when JJ is within reach, when he can look into JJ’s eyes and hear his voice and know that even if the rest of the world sucks ass, all he really needs is close enough to touch. If anything in life was ever perfect, he’s pretty sure it’s this right here between them, but he doesn’t know how to let JJ know that, and Yuri can already feel the moment slipping away from him.

Everything about JJ is warm and solid and real. It always has been, from the very first time JJ stood over him on the podium with a smile and a wink that made Yuri feel so small.

These days, Yuri doesn’t mind that feeling — not when he knows he’s safe, not when he knows he matters. Over time, he’s learned that being a step below JJ isn’t any different than being a step above him, because no matter what step they’re on they’re still giving it their all, they’re still there _together_ , and Yuri wants that more than anything.

Yuri wishes he knew how to get that feeling across, but he’s at a loss, so he pulls his hands free and throws his arms around JJ’s neck. He holds on tight and presses as close as he can, and he thinks JJ might understand, because his arms are just as tight around Yuri’s waist, and he releases a contented sigh above Yuri’s ear.

“I love you,” Yuri says. It’s low and fierce, with an underlying desperation Yuri doesn’t know if he’ll ever escape.

But that makes it raw and honest, and he wants JJ to hear that, if nothing else.

JJ nuzzles the flyaway strands of Yuri’s hair and presses a kiss to Yuri’s temple. It’s gentle and heartfelt, such a stark contrast to Yuri’s unrefined attempt, but the depth of feeling is the same, and Yuri knows their differences don’t impede them as much he he thinks they do when JJ whispers, “I love you, too.”

“I’m happy,” Yuri says, in a steadier voice this time.

He hears JJ laugh quietly, feels it through his chest, and he knows JJ believes him, because JJ says, “So am I.”

And Yuri doesn’t need a ring to know that’s true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Next Chapter:** Yuri interacts with the artists responsible for the drawings on the refrigerator.


End file.
